


Playing with Fire

by Alicethrutheburrows



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Cas, BAMF Dean, Cas has a messy past, Club Owner Dean, Club Owner Sam, Enemies to Lovers, Ex-military Cas, Gardner Cas, M/M, Pining Dean, Skipping friends, WIP, War on drugs, adding tags as we go, descriptions of violence, openly bi dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 23:56:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alicethrutheburrows/pseuds/Alicethrutheburrows
Summary: Shotgun is Kansas City's hottest night club. Owned and operated by some of the city's hottest bachelors-Dean and Sam Winchester. Only Dean has his eyes set on an edgy mystery man who frequents his club. When a failed abduction happens in his club, an unknown drug seems to be reason behind it. With the only lead being Dean's crush, can he convince the gorgeous man to help the brothers or will they be left walking blindly into hell's fire?





	Playing with Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I loved the thought of Dean owning a bar, but with his aggressive attitude I felt he would much more a club owner than a bar owner. He gets to drink and kick butt! I also love writing a BAMF Castiel. A strong Cas is truly my favorite Cas.  
This work is also unbeta'd so any and all mistakes, misspellings, and plain bad grammar is mine alone. Despite those I hope you enjoy this story. So welcome down my rabbit hole. Love, Alice

Playing with Fire

The bass dropped and the mass of bodies thrummed with the music, swaying each and every way, the low lights creating a sense of shared ambience in the night club. Shotgun, Kansas City’s hottest new nightclub was packed for a Thursday night. The once old-school industrial printing factory was converted after years of sitting abandoned and finally changing hands to a pair of brothers. The outside was left the same a homage to what once was, while the inside was gutted and completely redone. Two bars sat on each side of the huge dancefloor with the center holding a stage for performer or DJ of the night, exposed ducts and various dangling Edison inspired lightbulbs gave the whole place a stream-punk feel. A metal staircase on the right side led to the VIP section and back offices and held a view of the entire club below. This view was Dean Winchester’s favorite. Watching the general mass swarm and sway while the music filtered through the speakers was simply hypnotic and for a moment Dean was swept up in it letting it wash over him as he sipped his two-fingers of whiskey.

“Dean! Hey, Dean! I need you to sign these inventory invoices,” Sam’s voice, the other half behind Shotgun (the name stemming from a long running inside joke between the two), wafted through the noise breaking Dean’s moment of peace. He turned lowering the tumbler of whiskey from his lips to instead drink in the moose in front of him, standing almost six-foot-five Sam was quite the contrast to Dean. Sam with his mop of auburn brown hair he preferred to tuck behind his ears and basketball player build compared to Dean’s short spikey dirty dishwasher blonde hair, more star quarterback football player build and green eyes that put the most luscious mowed front lawn to shame but as far as little brothers went Sammy was a pretty great one even with being four years younger although he had a tendency to be a tad annoying as he was now. Sam handled more of the hands-on side of the business while Dean tended to deal with the other business that came with owning a popular night club. Downing the rest of his whiskey and setting the glass down Dean held out his hand for the invoices snatching them from Sam’s impatient hands. 

Sam turned to peer over the railing more than likely searching for the same thing Dean was a moment ago. 

“He’s here again.” Dean stiffened as a smug smile pulled at Sam’s lips as he turned to look at Dean’s face. Damn, guess Dean wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was. The club owner had come out as Bi shortly after turning eighteen and now twenty-eight his tastes shifted towards mostly men, and these days mainly one in particular. Although, his brother approved of his exploits, Dean tended to be rather private with his desires. Handing back the invoices to his now very annoying little brother Dean couldn’t help but peek at where Sam had been staring.

There he was. On the left center side of the dance floor with his usual posy of women was the man Dean had become enamored with over the past few months. He was wearing dark-washed jeans and a light-blue long-sleeved Henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbow, his clothes failing to hide an inch of the muscular body underneath, and his dark hair sticking up in every direction like he just went ten rounds with a sex god. His eyes were closed, his face in complete peace while swaying his hips to the beat of the bass drum thumping in the background, his movements agile, fluid, and plain mesmerizing. 

His dancing was what caught Dean’s attention all those months ago. Instead of dancing to be seen or vying for another’s attention like every desperate soul that seemed to frequent the nightclub, he was simply there, truly living in the moment, dancing for no one but himself and for Dean what started as envy at some point somehow had become admiration. 

Over the past few months after the mystery man captured his attention Dean had noticed some interesting things about his crush: 1. The man always came with the same two women, one redhead and the other sporting jet black hair, 2. He never seemed interested in anyone, his eyes never wandering from his lady companions, 3. There was something utterly unearthly and mysterious about him like the way he always scanned the room first and how he never touched a drop of alcohol even if offered. Tonight, his mannerisms where no different, although one of his counterparts had drifted towards the bar. 

“You know, you could just go down there and introduce yourself, instead of the whole creepy I’m always watching you from afar routine” The remark earning Sam a playful punch to the shoulder as he reached for the invoices refocusing Dean’s attention from the dance floor to the matter at hand.

“Shut up, Sammy. I’m working just like you should be doing,” 

“I am working Dean,” Sam chastised waving the invoices in Dean’s face again.

“Okay, okay. Look, he’s down there enjoying his night just like everyone else, and I…I…I have payroll to go over,” Dean stammered, a nervous hand running through his hair earning him one Sam’s famous bitch faces at the lack of a poor excuse for not manning up and just speaking to the object of his current desires instead of watching from his perch. A loud shriek drew both their attentions back to the dance floor. 

“Sam, get Benny and Victor down there and find out what’s going on” Sam nodded while Dean glared down at the dance floor assessing the situation, hand reaching instinctively for the small radio holstered on his hip to relay instructions and information as the events unfolded. 

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong if the gut wrenching feeling in the pit of Dean’s stomach was anything to go by, he clutched the radio tighter eyes scanning the crowd looking for the owner of the scream only to notice a head of dark hair and it’s red head companion fighting their way through compact throng of people towards a couple. One of them appearing to be a woman with jet-black hair who looked nearly incapacitated, her head lolling back and forth being hauled away by some greasy looking scoundrel dressed in all black. Shit, this was bad. Benny and Victor needed to hurry up before they had an incident on their hands. 

“Sam, guy black t-shirt, black pants heading towards the exit with a black hair woman in tow. Woman looks highly intoxicated and HOLY SHIT” the curse word left Dean’s agape mouth before he could relay what he was seeing below. The dark haired man reached out snatching the woman out of the greaser’s arms and all but throwing her into the arms of the red head trailing behind. The two women stumbled backwards, the red head trying to adjust for the sudden weight of the other women in her arms. The dark haired man pivoted, bring back his right fist and connecting straight with other man’s nose. The man’s nose started bleeding and rage filled his features as he went to strike back but he was too slow as the dark haired man delivered a hard blow to his diagram causing him to wheeze and double over only to have his face shoved down into a hard knee. The dance floor opened up a gap around the group as the sleazy man’s eyes rolled into back of his head and slumped to the ground.

“Sam! Back of the dance floor. Fight. Get some people down there now!” as Dean radioed his commands to his brother two big muscular men also dressed in all black stepped into middle of the clear space. They weren’t Dean’s. Just what in hell was happening? 

The dark haired man appeared to be shouting at the women pointing towards the exit before turning his attention back to his new and bigger opponents. His head tilted as if sizing up each one of the men before him. Dean had been in plenty of his own bar fights, but this man was next level, his movements were lightening quick striking the biggest one in throat before dancing back out of reach and pivoting towards the other bringing his right leg with him to kick the other thug square in the sternum. He threw his hands up to protect himself as he moved on the man, he had just kicked pressing in close enough so he could bring his elbow down against his opponent’s jaw, and there was audible pop before thug number two fell with a groan. Having recovered from the throat punch, the biggest of the group of baddies seemed to be out for blood. The man seemed eerily calm as he was about to be bombarded by the larger man. His speed ever impressive didn’t fail him as he side-stepped the giant grabbing the arm that was mid-swing wrenching it backwards and kicking the back of the giant’s knee before bringing down his full force onto the giant’s elbow no doubt snapping the arm in half from the blood-curdling scream that filled the air. It was all over in only a matter of seconds, but it seemed like time had stood still as the last thug fell clutching his arm tears freely streaming down his face and the dark haired man stood in the center rolling his shoulders and raising his hands in a sign of peace as Sam, Benny, and Victor burst from the crowd upon the scene. 

“Dean?! Did you see what happened?” Sam’s voice questioned over the radio, as Dean was already half down the metal stairs. 

“Get Benny and Victor to escort the three men that are down towards the back while you bring in the girls and him towards the exit, I’ll meet you there” Dean radioed back holstering his radio after and positioned himself, so he was effectively blocking the exit. To say Dean was in slightest bit prepared to come face to face with man he had been essentially eye lusting for months would be this century’s biggest overstatement. Blue. The only word running through his head as Sam herded the group towards him. The man’s eyes were unbelievably blue. The heat reflected in the man’s blue eyes could put a Bunsen burner flame to shame. The man had been helping his red head companion shoulder the intoxicated looking women between them before handing her completely over to the red head and stepping towards Dean. Up close the man was striking, high cheekbones, a strong jaw line covered with a slight stubble offset with plush yet chapped pinks lip and fuck Dean that sex hair looked even better this closely. He was a wet dream personified. 

“Either move or I will move you,” the voice sounded like the smoky tasting whiskey on the rocks Dean had been drinking earlier, fiery, gravelly and incredibly smooth. 

“Now, now no need to get feisty,” raising his hands and stepping forward Dean continued “You left us quite the mess, and you and I both know I can’t let you leave before asking a few questions.” A lopsided grin sliding on to Dean’s face as the man narrowed his eyes, the heat in them intensifying tenfold. 

“Feel free to call my lawyer. My friend is need of medical attention” His words cold as the turned gesturing at the women behind him. He was right the girl with jet-black hair looked pretty bad and the last thing Dean needed was a lawsuit, but he felt challenged and never one to back down had him saying “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way”. 

The man took a step right into Dean’s space and while he was an inch shorter than Dean himself, he felt larger than life and to anyone else was probably truly intimidating force, yet Dean couldn’t help but crack a smile stretching out to his full build enjoying the simmering tension between the two of them.

“I’m disappointed in your reputation Dean Winchester” Surprise must have been written all over Dean’s face as the man push forward again in to Dean’s space almost chest to chest now “You are supposed to the righteous man of the underground. This…” he turned to gesture to the night club behind them “A safe space yet you have this nonsense floating around your club and hooligans drugging women’s drinks,” 

Pulling out a small clear baggy filled with red pills stamped with white C’s from his back pant pocket and shoving them into Dean’s hand “You are playing with fire with these being dealt in your club and you will get burned” the man’s cryptic words accompanied by his icy tone left Dean staring at the small bag in his hand and sending a shiver down his spine. Drugs? In his club? Shotgun was known for being clean fun. Sam and Dean built their reputation on their no tolerance policy for substance dealing or abuse. They often used their connections, influence, and Winchester wrath to put the monsters that make and deal this kind of thing away yet here it was. 

Dean needed air, his mind racing with questions, fingers shaking with fury clutching the pills in his hand he met the man’s blue eyes and saw them soften just little before they turned to look at his friends in need and then back at Dean’s the silent question lingering in them. 

“Sam, make sure Benny and Victor detain the others we have a bigger problem this bunch on our hands, and you” pointing at the man’s chest “You get your friend some help and get out of here before the cops show up, this is no business for civilians” Dean lowered the finger he had stabbed into the man’s chest and brushed past him to Sam only turning around to see the man scooping up his friend out the redhead's arms and bridal carry her out the exit and more than likely out of Dean’s life but there are more pressing matters to worry about now. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A groan left Dean’s lips as he hit his head against his desk. The questioning turned out only the name of the drug and little else. Dean’s obsession did indeed snap that guys elbow which shouldn’t be as sexy as it was and while he was thinking about it those eyes, those eyes of his should be illegal. This night was turning out to be a dumpster fire, after the cops finally decided to show up and removed the trash from the premise Dean placed a call to Police Chief Bobby Singer—if anyone asked Dean would take it to his grave—that had Dean whining and begging his foster father for a favor. “Bobby, all I’m asking is for you to keep me informed,”

“Look, ya idjit. None of these men are talking. Whoever beat them to a pulp also put the fear of God into ‘em. Not to mention we were able to charge them with major possession. They’re facing some serious jail time and boy, you better stay outta this.”

“Bobby, Sam and I can handle ourselves. Do you have anything on the drugs they were trying to deal?”

“Boy, what did I just say?” 

“Bobby, these drugs were dealt in my club, I had a young woman almost date raped tonight and I’m lucky if I don’t have a lawsuit on my hands, do you or don’t you know anything?”

“Damn stubborn idjit, you didn’t hear this from boy. This isn’t the first case of this drug being dealt. These people are professionals. What happened at your club seems to be their signature. It seems more and more young women are vanishing and from witness recounts this drug is some sort of new supped up ecstasy and the last thing most witnesses remember is taking it and then nothing. This is a crack pot mess you stumbled into and you better stumble your way-out Dean and let me do my damn job” the threat was followed by dead silence. Seriously Bobby had hung up on him and like hell he was going to leave this alone. Thankfully Sam came in the office interrupting Dean’s forehead assault. 

“Talk to Bobby?” Sam questioned crossing his arms and huffing at Dean’s grumpy face. 

“Yeah, he says he going to keep us informed but you know Bobby he’ll only tell us what he thinks we should know. He did say these were some sort of super ecstasy and that young women seem to be disappearing, not sure if the two are connected but I feel like tonight was just the beginning.” 

Dean held up the small baggy of red pills examining them again for the hundredth time since they were shoved in his hand, it’s like they were mocking him. Just what the hell was happening under his nose? The events from tonight replaying in his head over and over again, Dean’ security team was top notch and for someone to manage to slip these in to his club, maybe the beautiful man was right, Dean’s reputation had failed them tonight. 

“You know,” Sam started sheepishly, slumping down into the chair in front of the desk breaking up Dean’s wild thoughts “We could ask him.” 

“Sam…” The exasperated look on Dean’s had Sam raising his hand “Dean, hear me out. Not only did this guy take out three, from what we gathered, professionals, but he also has knowledge on what those are” pointing at the baggy in Dean’s hand “I’m just saying we bring him, ask him some questions, and maybe offer him a job helping us fish out the supplier and maybe even the source” 

Was that even an option? Chewing is bottom lip Dean considered the possibilities. His crush did seem to have working knowledge of the substance in his hand and was clearly more than adept with hand-to-hand combat, but it was utterly and totally a stupid idea to fathom.

“Okay,” Sam’s eyes widen, knowing Dean was hardly ever agreeable. 

“Okay?” Sam questioned just making sure he had heard his brother correctly. 

“Yeah, okay. Stop looking at me like that and tell me if you got a plan,” 

Sam reached into his pocket “Better, we have his cell phone.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This was my first time writing an action scene, so sorry if things are a little choppy. I hope to see you in chapter 2 as things heat up between our boys.


End file.
